


Bittersweet

by corypheshits (dracoargentum)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Loss, Male Trevelyan (Mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9076309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoargentum/pseuds/corypheshits
Summary: Cinnamon. Sugar. Elfroot.In the wake of the Conclave, Indrani Trevelyan writes a letter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic, y'all. I know it's not that great, but it was pretty much just a way for me to start understanding my Inquisitor's character better, so yeah. Catch ya on the flipside kiddos.

Cinnamon. Sugar. Elfroot..

The scent of him lingered here, amongst his things. How they’d managed to recover his belongings, Indrani would never know. But there they were and here she was, seated amidst piles upon piles of clothing and trinkets.

He never did learn how to pack light. When her Mother had first told her of the family’s decision – that the youngest children should go to the Conclave together, in support of the Trevelyans present in the Chantry’s ranks – she’d been dreading it. She knew that the minute Hari heard, he’d be packing everything he could grab his hands on.

She’d found a hunk of cheese hidden in one of his socks, the fool. Some sprigs of elfroot, too, which might have contributed to the smell.

Despite herself, she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Since she’d woken in the Inquisition’s dungeon, everything had fallen apart. She couldn’t show it, of course. A proper Lady didn’t cry in front of soldiers, sisters, spymasters. And Indrani Trevelyan was nothing if not a proper Lady. 

But, still, she could feel it. The ache in her chest, the longing for home. Soft beds, warm food, and her books. Oh, how she missed her books. 

She’d only brought one with her, and she’d stashed it away in the Temple of Sacred Ashes before the Conclave began. If she’d only known what would happen, the damn thing might still be in her possession. 

Instead, all that she had left were her brother’s things. Socks, a few gold coins, and a leather-bound journal – though she didn’t dare open it. Even with Hari dead, it felt wrong, somehow. Like he would come back from the Fade itself just to snatch it out of her hands. 

Part of her wanted to test that idea, but she put it aside. He was gone. No use messing with a dead man’s things. 

She still didn’t know what she was going to tell their parents. Father might be understanding, but Mother? She would be furious, demanding an audience with this so-called ‘Inquisition.' Indrani couldn’t decide whether the idea made her feel better or worse. 

After all, the youngest of Bann Trevelyan’s brood was gone – killed in the same explosion that had struck down the Divine – and their second youngest had been propped up as the prophet of Andraste Herself, branded a heretic. Despite all the trouble she and her brother had caused over the years, they were still their mother’s children. Still Trevelyans.

That was why she’d been putting this off for so long. These belongings – her brother’s things – were meant to be sent back home to Ostwick. With them, a letter. A letter Indrani had yet to write. 

Sighing, she pushed herself up off the ground, wincing when a splinter from the floor got caught in the fleshy part of her hand. Gingerly, she picked it out, before heading over to the desk in the corner. If there was one thing she was grateful for, it was not having to sleep in a tent. She’d never been much of an outdoors-y sort.

There was parchment waiting for her, there, and a quill beside it. Hesitantly, she picked the latter up, curving her hand to position it properly. 

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_~~This is your daughter, Indrani.~~ _

_~~How are you?~~ _

_I am writing to you from Haven, near where the Temple of Sacred Ashes once stood. I have no idea if either of you have heard the news, but if you have not, here is the general information:_

_Divine Justinia is dead. There was an explosion at the Conclave, and I was imprisoned for a short time by Chantry forces. Something happened to me that no one can explain. But I am safe. That, I can assure you._

_The next part is a bit more difficult. I am afraid I do not know how to form the words._

_~~He’s dead.~~ _

_~~My brother has been killed.~~ _

_~~Your son is gone.~~ _

_Harendra was not as lucky as I was, though I don’t know if ‘lucky’ is quite the term for it. He was killed in the explosion. The belongings enclosed with his letter ~~are~~ were his._

_~~I tried to find him.~~ _

_~~There wasn’t enough to identify him.~~ _

_~~I still can’t believe he’s gone.~~ _

_I’m so sorry. If you have questions, you may write me back, but I beg of you, please don’t come for me. There is nothing to be done. I am needed here._

_I hope to come home to you soon._

_~~Love,~~ _

_Sincerely,_

_Lady Indrani Trevelyan of Ostwick_

The words didn’t feel like hers. Everything about this entire situation was wrong – didn’t make sense. Part of her prayed to the Maker that it was a bad dream, a twisted fantasy. That any minute now she’d wake up and be back in her bed, surrounded by her books, with breakfast waiting for her downstairs. 

But another part, a much stronger part, knew that wasn’t meant to be. As she’d said in the letter, she was needed here – the only one with the power to close the Breach, save the world.

She imagined their roles reversed, Hari with a mark on his hand and herself dead along with the Divine. He’d have made a terrible Herald of Andraste. Barely had what it took to be the youngest child of a noble family, always insisting that he was going to run away – that he would make something of himself without their parents’ titles and coin. 

He didn’t want to be stuck in the Chantry for the rest of his life, let alone amidst the Templar ranks. Truth be told, neither did she. But where Hari dreamed of another life – one of his own choosing – Indrani understood her duty. She may not have been happy about it, but she viewed the Conclave as the first step toward her new life. 

She had only just enlisted in the Templars when the fighting began, and the Conclave was supposed to fix everything – to make the Mages go back to their Circles and the Templars back to their towers. She was going to become a Knight and keep the world safe – going to protect people from the dangers of magic, regardless of whether she wanted to or not. 

If only things had been that simple.


End file.
